


a new religion

by millimallow



Series: the world of owa [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Elves, Fantasy, Gen, Urban Fantasy, short fiction, vaporwave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 08:09:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17484389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millimallow/pseuds/millimallow
Summary: inside an arcade is a new hierarchy. a new priest, a new crown, a new war.offer yourself to the machine and pray.





	a new religion

dozens of people crowd around a single arcade machine, eyes fixated on the screen as it flashes. blue, pink, purple, both the case and the game itself glow radiant in the darkness like a neon fire. intricately decorated with holographic tinsel and silver resin jewellery, a halo is formed. a modern shrine for the ancient people of u’baani. it has its worshippers, and it has its priests. my history lessons in the modern glass-and-steel central academy told me of the slow death our traditional gods had experienced in the cities. but wearing my intricate getup for the opportunity to offer myself to the legacy of champions? i knew better. there was nothing wrong with becoming a prophet in your own right.

before a match begins, we turn our hands so that the palms face up. our right hand men wash them gently with cloths dipped in sacred water for luck, all in order to remove sweat and potential tampering. who said there’s no honour amongst competitors? a whole crowd gathers beforehand and watches on. they’re anticipating the match, but they’re also checking to make sure everything has gone neatly and to order. if anything is awry, someone will no doubt catch hell for it.

today i’ve been careful. you have to, when the stakes are this high. busy city streets can distract you easily- one moment a shrill pubescent catfolk tries to sell you some fluorescent lemonade from a refrigerated cart, then you’re lost, and when you’re lost you’re late. i’m here at the allbalm arcade before anyone else gets there. it’s a matter of principle more than anything, but there’s also no shame in warming up at the machines so long as you don’t overdo it and burn out. though even if i arrive out of match time, it’s impossible to not draw attention.

he was already there.

my rival is a bright young thing named keyr’lin coo’per. i only met him a few months ago, as he recently returned from the coastline and a fairly exclusive boarding school. he’s a mangrove elf, like me, but his family is involved in some intricate computer-y business and it hasn’t been hard for them to get rid of him somewhere remote. it’s not apparent they’ve gotten much for their money, though, as, well… he’s proven himself a competitor for my dominion over the local joint. must have spent a lot of time in the local arcade and less at his fancy-boy brick school. now though- he’s on my territory. he’s wearing his silver shimmer jacket, blinding me as i get closer as it refracts the light from the screen. maybe it’s purposeful, maybe it’s not, but i suddenly want to leap at him like a wild fucking animal. especially when i can see that he’s smirking. smirking right in my face.

“i know that you turn up early, clever boy.”

“you’ve got some nerve, new boy.” i’m trying to match his mocking tone, but he’s somehow completely apathetic to my taunt.

“we don’t have to fight like this. we’re competitors, not enemies. let’s get down to business.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

word has gotten around quickly that we’re here. informal legend of our competition spreads instantly amongst the people who gather each day, it can be replaced just as soon. neither of us has prepared whatsoever, and i’m increasingly perturbed by keyr’lin’s apparent lack of a nerve. it’s okay, i tell myself. it’s all about what i show him, everything else only exists to distract me. so i put on my confident face, bear the magenta neon ceiling lights, and let the young woman standing next to me wash my palms down with a soft pink rag. old rituals demonstrated to us come back to me like an instinct. how a cleric could meditate in front of an idol on their knees for days on end just to prove their devotion. how it exceeded all others. how travellers would stoop behind them to wash their feet clean of insect bites in the tropical weather.

the name of the game is overdrive exe. it’s a racing game, rendered in a pixelated fashion, providing a surface-level simplicity of challenge and objective. be the fastest, control the best, optimize your time. one of my areas of expertise. me and keyr’lin take to the seats in front of the two machines, long worn down, now just black leather pedestals. i observe his straddle- it’s neat, confident and exudes control. then i match him as we select our boats and accessories of choice. a lot of strategy goes into this, but in the moment a crazy idea comes to me- i want to beat him at his own game. a countdown begins as my hand hovers over the control button, firm on the joystick, ready for an explosion of light. he’s whistling something under his breath as it happens. i whistle my own call to power; one of the old songs we sung in our religious instruction.

 _let the waves carry me to shore,_  
  
provideth me with calm oceans.   
  
my land where the sugarcane grows tall,  
  
tall as the sun in a blue sky.   
  
seaweed in the water,  
  
becometh my gentle guide.   
  
no more shall the ocean be full  
  
full of the tears of my ancestors. 

push, push. push as hard as i can go then further. keep myself in the space i have, let no other overtake my great desire. there is a sign in the light. you must try. it flickers, and i become heady with its instruction, so as that my eyes fill with the great flurorescent blaze. the rush overtakes me, all until i hear a familiar tune. the finishing song and the ring of a plastic bell.

did i win?

“draw!”

i turn to keyr’lin. his eyes are glassy and he’s not blinking. there’s an expression of shock on his face, but it’s frozen there, and his body won’t twitch when i move my hand over to him gently. on the screen is his score- the very same as mine.

down to the finest second. and he’s not responding to the finishing call, either, hand still firm with its grip on the controls.

_rendereth my enemies inert and shipwrecked,_

_so longer i can offer myself to you._

what in the world had just happened?


End file.
